


one red thread

by honeybeesoup



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Based on a song, End of the World, Introspection, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not Really Character Death, One Shot, POV GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), the tags in this were a mess so i changed them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:47:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28404231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeybeesoup/pseuds/honeybeesoup
Summary: oh, from the first that the line got drawnit was poisoning the land it was onone red thread through the middle of a songmy only onemy only one-It's the last night before the world is doomed to end, and the last night George will ever spend with Dream. He has some final things he wants to say.-based off one red thread by blind pilot
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	one red thread

**Author's Note:**

> since the story is based off one red thread by blind pilot i'd suggest you listen to it before, after or during reading this to give you more of an idea of the vibe

"This is it, isn't it?" 

The light, a pale silvery-blue, spills through the curtains as if it's a waterfall, the full moon outside reflecting off the slivers of glass and shining into both of their faces like a flashlight. It blinks on and off, like the stars, like their weary eyes. 

It's just the two of them. George, and Dream. Sitting next to each other, awake when they shouldn't be. Watching it all happen (though there's not much to see). 

"Yes, I suppose it is." George's voice echoes dimly off of the walls and ceiling, the five words forcing themselves into every little crack until they seem to fill the entire room. It's over. The world is going to end not so long from now. 

"Do you think you'll sleep again between now and… when it happens?" Dream asks him, as if it's nothing more than just another day. Maybe it is. Maybe there's nothing special about this. 

"I don't know." 

"Me neither." 

They fall rather silent, watching the nothingness pass them by. 

"You knew it'd happen, didn't you?" George is the one to break the stillness this time, shattering it into a million pieces that surround them in piles. 

Dream lets out a long sigh, one shaped by weariness and slowing tracks. He's been here too long, George sees the signs. He's tired. 

"I always kinda did, I think," Dream says. "I mean, humanity's been fucked for a long time, but it was bound to happen even if we were the best we could be." 

"Do you think…" George hesitates, on the verge of taking it back, but the words slip off his tongue before he can catch them and reel them back in. "Do you think it was worth it?" 

"Do _I?_ " 

Dream smiles softly, so tender and gentle that George wants to break his stupid face. It's not the _time_ to be soft. Maybe he shouldn't be caring. But he does. Why isn't Dream upset? 

"We made it as worth it as we could."

"I guess we did," he says, but his stomach is sinking and he can't find the heart to really mean it. 

"Why so dejected?" Dream lifts his chin with a hand, and their eyes meet for the first time in awhile - he can't remember just how long it's been. _Too long_. That's all. 

"What do you think?" he says, suddenly bitter, fists clenching around nothing. "Of course I'm dejected, Dream. We're gonna fucking blow up sooner than we have time to prepare for. Doesn't that make you angry?" 

"George, hey, George, listen to me-" 

"No! You know what, _you_ listen to _me_!" he snaps, and Dream almost flinches. He feels a sort of malicious satisfaction at the reaction, and so he plunges on. "I'm so sick of you acting like you don't care about this. It hurts, so _bad_ , and I don't want to accept it and I feel like I never will, and there's so much I have to say and I'll never get to. And then there's you- Dream-" 

" _George_ -" 

"-don't fucking interrupt me. You.. fucking, _sitting_ here like you don't give a _shit_! Like you're _okay_ with the fact that this is all going to be over. Why can't you be upset for once in your life? Do you feel anything? _At all_?" 

He stares at Dream, eyes overbright, suddenly fuming. It feels like every wall, every door, is closing in on him, caving at the sight of his anger, and all he can really do is yell more, even though it won't fix anything. Everything hurts; god, _everything_. He can't stand Dream. Why isn't he hurting too? 

"Hey," Dream says gently. "George. Take my hand?" 

"No-" 

"Shh. For just one second. Let me talk, okay?" 

George wants to punch him so badly, but he restrains himself. 

"I know it hurts, really. It hurts for me too. You probably don't believe it does, but it does. I just… don't show it as much. But this is what we have." 

The room is still. 

"This is what we have, George, and it's not changing. And you have to understand that that's okay." 

George squeezes Dream's hand, as if he'll fly away if he lets go - the only connection to reality he has. 

Tears, cold and damp, trickle down his face. 

"I know," he says. "I just… wish I could've been better. I wish I could have said more of what I wanted to." 

"Then say it." 

"..Sorry?" 

"Say it, if you want to so much. I'll listen." 

He wipes his face with a sleeve. 

"I guess I should, huh." 

His hand brushes against Dream's, and it feels as if there's something more there than just the two of them, just for a second. Like maybe there's hope. 

"Dream," he says, and it feels like there's a thousand words within just that one. 

"I loved you. I still do." 

He blinks. 

Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't that. 

"You..?" 

"I know it.. might not be the best time," George admits gingerly. "But I needed to tell you. I'd not be able to live with myself otherwise." 

Dream gazes sadly at him. 

"Oh, George… I love you too." 

He's… crying? 

"Are you-" 

"S-sorry-" His voice wobbles. "I'm.. I'm okay." 

"Are you?" 

"Yes, don't worry," he mumbles, blinking the tears away as best he can. "I'm alright. I just wasn't, you know." 

"I know, yeah." 

Dream nods. The tears haven't yet vanished from his eyes, but he looks at George without a trace of anger or fear. 

"Can I.. kiss you?" 

"Oh, what? Yeah- yes, of course." 

Dream pulls him in by the sleeve, and their lips finally meet for the first and last time. Dream's lips are rough, not nearly as soft as he would've envisioned, but he doesn't care. It doesn't matter so much anymore. 

It's not a long kiss, nor the one he'd expected them to have all those months ago when he first realised what he felt. But it's real. And somehow that's all he needs. 

They sit there, hands still touching one another. Dream wraps an arm around his shoulders, and they lean into each other. 

"Did you want to say anything else?" 

"I don't remember. I don't think I care too much." 

"You're sure? You were all angry a minute ago." 

"Yeah," he mumbles. "I still am. But I don't want to think about it. I'd rather spend my last moments being happy." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah."

"Then let's be happy." 

Their hands wrap around one another. The light still shines through the window. In not so long, they'll both be gone. 

In not so long, there will be nothing. Just the echoes of heartbeats and the remainders of what could have been. 

And George has decided that, for once in his life, he's happy.

_"the only line that is true is the line you're from."_

**Author's Note:**

> this is another very short one shot that i really only made because i was sad and wanted to write but i guess it turned out pretty okay so i'm posting it. i have longer stuff on the way, it'll just be a little while until it's prepared enough to post! bear with me mkay


End file.
